Marching toward the end,
Staggering glory,
Reading the Scarlet rune,
Casting away from home,
Fierce and uncurled,
relentlessly walking over the dead intentions,
Head in one hand, heart in the other,
A road established with late dreams,
A merciless journey, we wander through it,
Bit by bit, we were out of whiff,
And I hated the plain,
No more coming back,
And here we are,
Still exchanging the blood for a canard,
A lie has been whispered in our ears,
Blaming the truth for no reason,
Drinking the tears of the widows,
Daydreaming and wondering,
Been Promised to reach the heavens,
Mocked by death for one last time,
Kneel at the hand of fate,
Our fears that we worshipped,
Served at a time when we were lost,
With each day passing, we drink the ink of our miseries,
A sacrifice for the ages to come,
So no one will suffer again,
White pages
Write a fresh view,
Of our forlorn tragedy,
Head up high,
Eyes wide open,
Light of value,
Grasp most of it,
March on voidance,
And I still hate the plain,
And I won't come back, no way.
YOU ARE READING
Two Tears
PoesíaFor my love, My HOPE The love we have is a definite testament that spanned decades, though we came from afar place, we were always able to find each other, across an ocean of time. I love you eternally.
